


Haunting grounds

by Ischa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creepy, Disturbing Themes, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things that happen: Harry buys a house, finds a diary and someone can't let things rest.</p><p><i>November, 3<br/>Wish I could burn the house down and everything that is there – except Mom and Dad, of course.<br/>November, 7<br/>Can’t wait to go home. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunting grounds

**Title:** Haunting grounds  
 **Pairing:** Harry gen-ish (Harry/Blaise, Harry/Draco)  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** Things that happen: Harry buys a house, finds a diary and someone can't let things rest.  
 _November, 3  
Wish I could burn the house down and everything that is there – except Mom and Dad, of course.  
November, 7  
Can’t wait to go home. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life._  
 **Warning(s):** disturbing imaginary, character death, dark (kind of)  
 **Author’s Notes:** This is a future fic, also kind of creepy. Part of the 13 days to Samhain ficathon.  
 **Word Count:** 2.722  
 **Beta:** asm_z  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~1~  
“You’re not serious!” Hermione says. Her hands on her hips. She looks like that little girl she used to be ten years ago.

“It looks like it’s gonna collapse on itself any minute now,” Ron throws in.

“Too late for your good advice, it’s mine now,” Harry answers.

“You bought it?” Hermione asks unbelievingly.

“Yes, I bought it,” he answers, feeling proud.

“Merlin help us all when Mom hears about this…” Ron says, but he’s grinning. “I kinda like it, it does look creepy though.”

“It has charm,” Harry replies with a matching grin.

“Sure!”

“Boys!” Hermione says throwing her hands up. She hasn’t changed, Harry thinks. Not at all.

~+~  
Ron and Dean help him with his stuff – it isn’t much yet and Mrs. Weasly throws pillows and blankets at him like they’re going out of fashion.

“Do you even have a bed?” she asks.  
He nods.

“Mom…” Ron and Ginny say irritated.

She gives them a look and Dean snickers behind his hand. “He bought this…house,” she says with a significant pause, “How am I to know if it comes with a bed?”

“It doesn’t. But I bought a bed as well. Will be delivered some time this week,” Harry answers.

“Some time this week?” Mrs. Weasly says. Harry nods. “Good thing I brought the blankets then!”  
Ron and Ginny roll their eyes behind their mother’s back.

~+~  
He saw the house when he was out flying a few days ago and it just called to him. He is going to renovate it himself – with a little bit of magic of course. But he really wants to do something with his hands. To build something. Something that will be his.  
And this house, somewhere, nowhere in the countryside is his something. His refuge. He loved it on first sight.  
He loves it still. Even if the roof could collapse on his head any minute and the pipes aren’t working more often than they are and the fireplace nearly killed him, because they chimney isn’t working.  
It’s his.

 

~2~  
On the third night in his new house he wakes with a start and is instantly wide awake. His reflexes and instincts kicking in. The house is deadly quiet, but Harry just can’t relax. Something woke him up and it wasn’t a nightmare. He pushes the blankets aside and gets up. The floor feels cold under his bare feet, but he isn’t going to use any charms right now. He doesn’t want to warn who ever broke into his house.  
Harry searches every corner of his new house and finds nothing.

~+~  
“The house already getting to you?” Dean asks when Harry tells him all about his sleepless night two days later.

“It’s not the house,” Harry says a bit irritated with him.

“It’s a creepy, old house in the middle of nowhere and your floo isn’t working like it should. That’s why we’re on the phone,” Dean points out. Sometimes Dean sounds like Hermione.

“It’s not the house. Someone broke into my house.”

“You didn’t hear or see anyone. And you said yourself you searched the whole house and isn’t it guarded?” The question is of course rhetorical. Because of course it’s fucking guarded.

“Okay,” Harry admits.

“The house is getting to you, mate,” Dean says. “You should come over this weekend and we’re gonna hit the clubs with Ginny, Lavender and Ron.”

“Sounds good,” Harry says.

“Great, don’t be late, wonderboy,” Dean answers and hangs up on him.

~+~  
When Harry comes back from ‘hitting the clubs’ with his friends, his house feels different. He shivers as he enters and shakes his head. He throws his jacket onto a chair and makes a fire. The heater still isn’t working properly.  
The chill lessens after a while and he takes a shower, makes some tea and curls up on his brand new sofa with a book Hermione must have brought over last week when she visited, because he sure as hell didn’t buy any books yet.  
It’s old and musty and surprisingly a novel of some sorts. On a second look, it does look like a diary. He shrugs and begins to read, it’s the only thing to do, as he didn’t think about buying a TV yet (it’s on the long, long list of things he still needs to buy now that he is living alone, he adds books to it mentally as well).  
 _  
October 10  
Fresh new book. Not sure there will be a lot to write about, though. _

_October 14  
It’s beyond me how my parents can think this is an exciting holiday! I’m sure I’ll die of boredom. _

_October, 20  
Still here. It’s boring as hell Can’t wait to get home. Mom told me there might be Pixies in the garden. Didn’t see any. If it was Dad, I would’ve thought he lied to get rid of me. But it was Mom, so maybe they’re just hiding?_

Hmm, Harry thinks, seems like part two of something longer.

 _October, 25  
Something grabbed my leg tonight and I bit my arm so I wouldn’t scream. Dad would’ve been mad. I just know something is here. In the house. Lurking in the shadows. Waiting to eat me alive…or maybe I’m just overdramatic like P. says. _

_October, 27  
Definitely something in the house. Not a ghost. I’ve seen plenty ghosts, they don’t scare me. Who would be afraid of them? Muggles maybe. But they’re afraid of everything – says Dad. I ruled out nearly everything I know of.  
I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I don’t like it. Thinking about telling Dad after all…  
Can’t sleep at night. _

_October, 28  
It touched me and it felt cold and then warm, like it’s stealing warmth from me. Can’t describe it. Didn’t see anything. _

_October, 29  
It keeps touching me. Running his hands – I think you could call it that – over my legs and arms…and… I think I need to tell Dad. _

_October, 30  
Something was in my bed again.  
Dad doesn’t believe me. Mom looks worried. I wish we could just go home already. _

_October, 31  
Can’t take it. Took a bath for two hours, I don’t feel any cleaner.  
Begged Mom to let me go home._

Harry closes the book for a minute and breathes. He isn’t sure he wants to know how this ends. The book feels heavy in his hands, the leather old and brittle. He takes a deep breath and opens it again.

 _November, 3  
Wish I could burn the house down and everything that is there – except Mom and Dad, of course. _

_November, 7  
Can’t wait to go home. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life. _

_November 11  
Going to bury the book in the backyard. Mom buries things in the rose garden when she doesn’t want to see them ever again.  
Thank Merlin I’m going to Hogwarts next year and will never have to be here ever again._

Harry skims through the journal, but the rest of the pages are empty. He feels strangely disappointed.

 

~3~  
For days and nights after he read the diary he expects something to grab his leg when he’s in his bed. It doesn’t happen.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Hermione says. She’s pouring tea into green mugs and hands one to him.

“It’s nothing. Just…the house. It’s so quiet.”

“Of course, you are used to living with boys and, well, the Weaslys and even the Dursleys. You never lived alone.”

“Might be just that,” he answers, taking a sip of his tea. It’s peppermint. He hates peppermint tea. “I hate peppermint tea,” he says, putting the mug down.

“Since when?” she asks.

“Ever since I first tasted it?”

“You sure?” she asks.

“Hermione, of course I’m sure.”

“I’ll make you some black tea then,” she answers, waving her wand.

“Thank you.”  
When he thinks about it later he really doesn’t know when he started to hate peppermint tea. He really can’t remember even saying it either. Strange. Maybe he just forgot to mention it while he was fighting Voldemort and trying to stay alive.

~+~  
“Did the house collapse on your head yet?” Dean asks in his usually cheery voice.

“No, it won’t either. It looks pretty stable now that I had people fixing the roof and the rest of it.”

“Thought you wanted to do it yourself?”

“Seems like I have no talent what so ever in this particular area,” Harry answers and Dean laughs.

“We can’t all be geniuses,” he says.

“Truer words…” Harry says.

“Listen, some of us want to get out of this miserable weather and spend a few days in the warmth? Wanna come with?”  
Harry is on the verge of asking who else is coming but then he shakes his head, of course Dean can’t see it, as they’re on the phone. After all the floo still doesn’t work like it should: He guesses he needs a professional to look into that particular matter as well.

“Nah…I still have stuff to fix around the house. The floo for one,” he says.

“Mate…all work and no fun make Harry…you know the rest,” Dean answers.

“Too late. I was already declared crazy a few times,” Harry says and Dean laughs before he says goodbye and hangs up on him.

~+~  
The journal lies innocently on his small coffee table. Harry can only stare at it. He’s sure it’s at least ten years old or older by the looks of it, might be because it was buried in the backyard, but still. He wonders what happened to the kid who wrote it.  
It’s his nature to worry and think about such things. It’s his nature to want to help. Harry knows that he can’t save everyone and for this child…well, it’s too late. He takes the journal in hand and goes out into the backyard. Hermione said to make it into a garden, but he didn’t have the time yet. Something rustles in the hedge to his left, but he ignores it. It’s a bird for all he knows. He falls to his knees and starts to dig a hole into the ground. It’s cold and heavy, but not frozen yet.  
When he thinks it’s deep enough he lets the journal fall in and buries it. It’s, after all, where it came from.

 

~4~  
“The house looks better,” Hermione says. She still looks disapproving of it though.

“I had it fixed up,” he answers, ignoring the rest.

“Well, I suppose when you have a girl living with you, it'll get better.”

“If with a girl you mean Ginny, just stop right there. I don't want to hear it.”

“I didn't say anything,” she replies.

He sighs. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” she answers and he knows this is not the end of the endless 'why won't you settle down with Ginny so we can be a big happy family' speech. He heard it before and he guesses he will have to endure it for another million times. Sometimes he wishes he'd just left Great Britain for good after the whole thing with Voldemort was done.

~+~  
“Just tell them you fucked Blaise and everything is different now,” Dean says.

“Right.”

“They wouldn't care. I don't care, Seamus doesn't care. No one cares. Seriously, Harry.”

“I know, I just don't want to deal with it now. I know they wouldn't care about the fact that I slept with a guy...”

“A guy, right.” Dean interrupts.

“The problem would be that it was Blaise,” Harry finishes. Maybe he should keep his amorous adventures to himself in the future when that's what he gets for it.

“The whole house pride thing is done and forgotten,” Dean says.

“Maybe for you. Not for them. Trust me on this one,” Harry answers. And that's why he is best friends with Dean now. Dean just doesn't care about such trivial things.

“Just get it over with,” Dean advises.

~+~  
“Okay...okay. I need a minute here,” Hermione says, sitting down.

“Blaise, really?” Ron asks.

“I think he's hot,” Ginny says and Ron gives her an unbelieving look.

“Blaise?” he asks again.

“Yes, Ron, Blaise...and other guys as well.” He can be honest about everything here now.

“But you were in love with Cho!”

“Yeah...maybe. No idea. I was young and Blaise...”

“Stop right there. I don't want to know any details,” Ron says grimacing.

“Okay.”

“I just don't get it...” Ron says.

“I do,” Ginny throws in. Ron gives her another look. “He's _hot_.”

“Merlin help us all.”

“Don't tell your mom,” Harry says.

“She loves you, she wouldn't care,” Ron says, a bit hurt.

“I know. I don't want her to set me up with someone weird...” he admits and Hermione laughs.

“She would!” she says.  
Later when everyone except Hermione is gone, because she wanted to talk about his feelings and Harry is preparing sandwiches in the kitchen she comes in and he turns to ask if she wants tea with her sandwich or coffee.

“Where did you get that one from?” Hermione asks, holding up the diary.

“I have no idea...”

“It's all dirty...” she says musing. She turns it this way and that, dead leaves and soil falling on the hardwood floor.

“Just give it to me, I'll clean it up,” he says, taking it out of her hand without waiting for an answer. “Take these and find something for us to watch, I'm done with talking about my feelings...” he adds with a smile. She nods and takes the plate.  
He stares at the dirty journal on his new kitchen table.

 

~5~  
Harry stays up all night and waits for something to happen – nothing happens.  
Two days later he wakes up in the middle of the night. He runs a hand through his hair and listens. Nothing. Nothing at all.  
He gets up nevertheless because he can't sleep anymore.  
The journal lies on his couch when he passes it on his way to the kitchen. He makes tea and then curls up in the living room with the journal.

 _January, 13  
Can't believe that bloody, stupid, fucking idiot! How many forms can idiocy take anyway? Scratch that. I know.  
Blaise would say one and point to the mirror and maybe Blaise would be right about that too. _

_January, 22  
Can't actually say I'm making the smart decisions here. It's foolish at best and dangerous at worst. It all will end in disaster. I just know it and Blaise isn't helping either. He maybe would be a help if I would've listened to his advice. But the thing is I can't.  
Judgement packed it's stuff up and left for Hawaii. _

_February, 1  
I'll kill him. I swear to Merlin I will and Blaise is going to help me bury the body. I know he would. He is a good friend after all._

 _February, 17  
I'm an idiot. _

_February, 27  
He will never say a fucking word about us to his friends. I'm a fucking secret and I hate it. _

_March, 3  
I want to burn the house down.  
I even might._

Harry puts the journal aside and closes his eyes. That is not the same journal, he thinks before he drifts off.

~+~  
“They found Malfoy's body,” Dean says.

“He's dead?” Harry asks disbelievingly.

“They found his body, Harry. Yes, he's dead.”

“Right...”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes...” he says, but he means no. “I'll call you back later...” he says and hangs up on Dean.

~+~  
The book is new, pristine under his fingertips and when he opens it there is only one sentence and it's written over and over again.  
 _You can never leave me, Harry._

~end~


End file.
